


Maintaining Standards

by Philomytha



Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philomytha/pseuds/Philomytha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denis never thought being with the Capital Fleet would be more dangerous than the front lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maintaining Standards

**Author's Note:**

> Written for maat_seshat, who wanted Theisman/LePic, injury and cuddles

Ten years at the front with Citizen Admiral Theisman, Denis thought hazily, and he'd never had more than some scratches and bruises, but now when they were here with the Capital Fleet he was in pieces because of a maintenance accident. He couldn't actually feel his arm, because Theisman had injected him with the emergency painkillers that were apparently part of his military kit, but he could see it hanging at a deeply unnatural angle, and the dark blood pooling on the floor. Except it wasn't the floor, it had been the ceiling, before everything had exploded. He blinked dizzily and tried to move, to see where the floor had gone.

"Stay still, please, sir," Theisman said. "Don't worry. You're going to be fine. Listen. That's the search-and-rescue team cutting through the bulkheads. They'll be here soon." 

Theisman's hand was still pressed tightly to his upper arm, trying to control the bleeding. Strange that he could feel that, but not the much worse injury below. "I think under the circumstances," he murmured, "you don't have to call me 'sir'. There's nobody else here." 

"Habit," Theisman said. "It's not a mistake we can afford right now."

"You'll get lots of credit for this," Denis said. "Heroic rescue of your commissioner. Oscar will eat it up. Like ice cream." He heard himself giggle, disturbingly. 

"Except for the bit where you got injured rescuing me," Theisman countered. "God, I hope that dose was all right for you. It was calibrated for me, really." His other hand came up and felt Denis's pulse. "Mm. Lie as still as you can." 

Denis didn't remember any of it very clearly. Inspection of ... of something, some dodgy bit of fleet engineering that had had Theisman marching about ranting and steaming at the ears yesterday evening when he'd heard of it. Then an explosion, a lot of dust and darkness and fear and pain. The fear mostly for Theisman, who had been closer to the explosion than he had. He did remember grabbing for Theisman, then a blur, and then they were here. 

"It's cold," he heard himself complain. He closed his eyes. The pressure on his arm released for a moment, then returned, and he blinked his eyes open again in time to see Theisman finish stripping off his jacket. He put it over Denis like a blanket, then said, "This cold metal's not helping. Hold on..."

Everything lurched, and for a second he could feel everything that had happened to his arm. He bit his tongue, his vision greying out. 

A moment later, he was lying half off the metal ceiling-floor, his head cradled in the corner of Theisman's arm. It made him feel ridiculous, but speaking seemed far too much effort, and Theisman was much warmer and softer than the floor. 

"Not long now," Theisman said. "I'm going to disembowel that engineer for this. It was obvious for the records that it wasn't being properly maintained. I shouldn't have brought you here--"

"Wasn't entirely her fault," Denis managed. "Or yours. I saw the records too. The commissioner was riding them all for cost cutting and faster work. Idiot." He shivered, and Theisman held him more closely. "The commissioner's my meat. Exceeding his authority." 

In the gloom, he saw Theisman smile crookedly. "In that case, I want to watch. I like it when you come the commissioner at people. Ah, here we go--"

The noise and vibrations were getting louder, the ceiling-floor shaking beneath them. A piece of metal clanged down nearby, and Theisman leaned across him, sheltering him. "Damn it, can't they be more careful?" he muttered. 

Despite it all, Denis felt oddly safe. He'd followed Theisman through too many close-run battles, too many bloody wars, and every time, Theisman had got him out alive. And besides, nobody was actively trying to blow him up here. 

"I'm fine," he mumbled, and heard Theisman give a strange laugh, beneath the racket. There was a tremendous lurch, they both slid sideways and Theisman clutched him, swearing. 

A sudden blaze of light picked them out, and Denis closed his eyes against its assault. 

"We need a medic!" he heard Theisman shout in a voice that he knew from experience could carry over a missile strike. "Be gentle, damn you!"

The world lurched again and something slammed into his broken arm. Denis heard himself make a strange unnatural noise, and then there was blackness.

* * *

When he next woke, nothing hurt and he was lying on a bunk in the ship's sickbay. It was probably a good sign that there were no doctors or medics hovering over him, just someone across the room filling in paperwork. He cleared his throat, and the attendant turned.

"Oh, you're back with us, sir!" he said, abandoning his paperwork. "I hope you're feeling better. Your arm's had a round of quick-heal and you've had a transfusion, and you should be able to leave in a few hours. But I'd better call the Citizen Admiral right away, he left orders to be told as soon as you were awake. If that's all right with you, sir?" The SBA seemed to realise that Denis was a higher authority than the admiral, for he flushed and rubbed his hands nervously.

"Yes, that's fine, call him," Denis said. He looked around, and his eye was caught by the blanket lying over him. Protruding from the edge of the plain white hospital sheet was a flash of green and grey. When the SBA turned away to make the call, Denis pulled it loose with his free hand, and smiled. It was Theisman's uniform jacket.


End file.
